Page 6 of Spring Break with a One Night Stand

Nelson–some dandelion puff of thought realized she didn’t know his last name–was fucking hot. But what really melted her panties was how nice and decent and gentle and respectful he was.

He was the whole package, but timing and logistics and differing lifestyle choices meant she had to settle for a small–well, sizeable–part of the package.

“Be right back.” Without asking, he retrieved a condom from the bathroom.

Her heart wobbled, touched that he was man enough to handle protection.

“What a turn-on, watching you come.” He stretched out next to her, fingers drifting over her breasts, plucking the pink tips, tracing the dark brown areola, cupping the heft in his palm. Reaching up, he tugged one of her curls, smiling when it snapped back like a spring.

His cock thrust impatiently against her hip, so she reached over to grasp it loosely, pumping her fist up and down languidly. He deserved better than a hand job, so she was carefully not to overstimulate him.

“Mmm. That’s nice.”

They stayed like that for a while, the room silent except for the sound of their breathing, the faint rustle of her hand stroking his length, and the rumble of contentment vibrating through his chest.

“Slow down or I’ll finish before we really start.”

Releasing him, Odette curved her hand over the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. This time, the kiss was slow and soulful. She traced the seam of his lips with her tongue, smiling against his mouth when they parted so she could savor his taste, explore the sharp edge of his teeth, deepening it to the intimate connection shared by passionate, greedy lovers.

“I want to be inside you, Odette.” Nelson levered himself upright.

Guiding her with a firm touch, he rolled her over onto her belly and then pulled her up onto hands and knees. Kneeling behind her, he planted one hand between her shoulder blades so her head and shoulders sank into the mattress. She heard the foil wrapper tear, followed by the snap of the condom being pulled on.

Nelson growled as he guided the crown of his shaft through her folds, aligning himself to her center, and sinking slowly into her heat. He was big; not painfully so but thick and hard enough to fill all the empty spaces inside her.

A thousand thoughts collided at once, and Odette felt the sting of tears. They fit so naturally, so perfectly, so effortlessly that the coming together seemed preordained. Crazy, she thought. You didn’t meet a hot stranger in Vegas, fuck him, and then fall in love.

That was C.R.A.Z.Y, and Odette Bell–animal rescue fanatic, vegetarian, Love Beach home girl, independent and happily single–didn’t do crazy.

Chapter Four

Three months later

Love Beach, South Carolina

“Why Love Beach?” Jamie Jordan, one of the teachers from River Heights High School who’d volunteered to chaperone this outing with Nelson, ticked names off a list on her clipboard as half a dozen students boarded the white passenger van rented for the trip.

“Why not?” Nelson scanned the parking lot of the chain hotel just off the highway where they were staying, automatically looking for Odette. It was an unrealistic expectation because he knew full well she was at the Love Beach Animal Shelter, preparing for her spring break volunteers. “I heard it was a great little beach town within driving distance of Jacksonville, and helping out at an animal shelter is way cooler than sorting canned goods for a food bank or scrubbing graffiti off public buildings. This way the kids work off some of their community service hours and still have a chance to enjoy the beach.”

“Nah, I know you better than that, Price. Something happened. You’re different.” Jamie assessed her coworker through narrowed eyes. “You nixed every other project the Counseling Department proposed. You’ve chaperoned these trips the past three years and never cared where we went or what we did. ’Fess up.”

“Mr. Price, I called shotgun and Shane won’t move.” Brenda Mitchell, a sixteen-year-old junior with the body of a twenty-one-year-old woman, pouted coyly.

“Brenda, we gave you the dress code for this trip. Go back and change.” Nelson sorted through the room keys and handed one to her. “No tank tops and no flip-flops. Put on a t-shirt–not the one you cut in half to show off your belly ring–and sneakers.”

“Miss Jordan–” She swiveled, trying to play one teacher off the other.

“You signed the contract, Brenda. You knew the requirements before we left Jacksonville. If you don’t have the right gear, and that includes attire, you’ll have to sit out today. No community service hours and no down time privileges.” Jamie poised her pencil over the clipboard. “Your choice.”

“Fine.” With an exaggerated huff, Brenda stomped off, returning a few minutes later with a yellow RHHS t-shirt and black and white checked Vans.

“Shane, back seat.” Jamie rousted the troublemaker and climbed into the passenger seat while Nelson got behind the wheel.

It was a fifteen-minute drive into town. The streets and sidewalks were packed with spring break tourists–families with small children, college students, young couples, older couples, groups of women his mom’s age–forcing them to a crawl. Nelson kept his eyes on the road while Jamie monitored the students. Besides Brenda and Shane, there was Linsey, Anton, Burke, and Reynoldo. All six had a poor track record when it came to academics and behavior. The spring break volunteer trip was part of a special program funded by one of the state universities. The project aim was to turn the kids’ lives around before they got into real trouble through mentoring, community involvement, tutoring, and job training.

This was Nelson’s last trip with the students. He’d already submitted his resignation, and when the schoolyear ended in a month, he would begin interviewing for a teaching job in Seattle. His sister Felicity was elated by his decision to spend a few years on the West Coast after almost a decade hopping from Philadelphia to Detroit to Jacksonville.

Until his one-night stand with Odette in Las Vegas six weeks ago, he’d been excited about the move. Waking up to find her gone left him reeling. He’d battled the urge to track her down on social media, telling himself it was a just a fling, but he hadn’t been himself since that night. Jamie was right; he was different.

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